


Garnet Set In Gold

by tealmoon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Developing Relationship, M/M, Sort Of, SpicyHoneyMustard, Vaginal Fisting, Voyeurism, accidental sexual injury, established poly relationship, honestly I prefer the latter ship name but it's less popular, honeyfell, mild dom/sub?, unrealistic insertion?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealmoon/pseuds/tealmoon
Summary: "Let's try something new this time," Stretch said. "It'll make us closer as boyfriends," Stretch said. "Isn't that in the dating manual or something?"It turned out that 'new things' meant hands in unexpected places, but Edge was eager to try.





	Garnet Set In Gold

“Are you absolutely sure you’re open to doing this? I know you may have been blinded by your lust to have as much of me as possible, but—”

“Get a hold of yourself, Baron von Goth. Rein in the ego, please.” Stretch was perched at the windowsill, smoking out of the open window. They had come to a compromise; Stretch insisted he needed a smoke to get started, while Edge didn’t want the smell to linger while they were “performing intense acts of lovemaking.” Edge was willing to show him some leeway, considering what they would soon be doing together. “I didn’t change my mind in the last dozen times you’ve asked.”

Out of the three of them, he looked the least stressed, but that couldn’t be true. Surely he had to be nervous about what Edge was going to do to him, what Red was _allowing_ Edge to do. As their mutual lover, Red had insisted on spectating the proceedings. Edge and Stretch had gone on several dates and shared some intimacies, but their own relationship was still fairly new. It was possible that Red thought they were rushing into something extreme and wanted to head-off any harm that could come to either of them.

Red did a decent enough job of looking nonchalant, sitting backwards on the desk chair and poking at his phone, but he was already sweating faintly. Edge sincerely doubted he could keep up that air of disinterest once the proceedings had started.

Finally, Stretch finished with his cigarette, even bothering to dispose of the butt properly rather than just leaving it in his pocket, where inevitably whoever was on laundry duty had to remove a few dozen finished cigarettes before the jacket could go through the wash. With a faint grin, he crossed over to the bed, doing a haphazard shimmy to remove his shorts. (A pitiful attempt at a striptease; Edge would have to teach him how to conduct one properly for Red’s amusement.)

He kept his ridiculous hoodie on, bare from the waist down. Usually Edge would have argued and needled at him, because it was hardly an alluring outfit—if one insisted on clothed sex and its inevitable mess, the least one could do would be to wear an attractive outfit, like the one Edge usually sported. But this time, he was allowed to have whatever comforts he wanted, without any teasing from either of them. There would be plenty of opportunities in future encounters where Edge could try to get him into leather pants or a corset. Or some nice heels and nothing else—Papyri had great legs, Stretch just needed a chance to show his off.

“Are you ready to begin?” From that smirk, from the way he was sprawling on the bed and looking at Edge, it seemed so, but he didn’t want to assume. And Stretch had yet to summon anything...

“Yeah, but you’re gonna need to help me out a bit. Can’t go from 0 to 100 just like that, you know.”

“Well, prepare yourself for my brilliant oral techniques! I’m sure my brother has regaled you with them before.”

“You know, Boss, when me and Stretch go on dates, we talk about more than just you.” Sans glanced up from his phone, where he was playing a brightly colored game. For someone who apparently liked voyeurism, he wasn’t acting very enthusiastic about it. “But don’t keep the guy waiting.”

From what Red had told him and their own few experiences together, Stretch was lazy in all things, including intimacy. Unlike their shared lover, whose magic could form at a mere look, he needed far more stimulation to develop his genitalia. One would think that would not make him a suitable partner for this kind of play, but he had insisted that he could participate.

And, of course, Edge was a considerate lover! He would not balk at the challenge of a slow-to-arouse partner! Kneeling on the bed before Stretch, he reached down, carefully placing his gloved hands on each of those bare femurs. As a monster originating from a more civilized world, his bones were immaculate, smooth and warm even through Edge’s gloves. He was trembling enough that it gave Edge pause, but Stretch only grinned down at him. “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation or something, buddy? Ravish me like you promised.”

“Well, if you insist,” Edge answered, giving him the slow, fanged smile he sometimes practiced in the mirror. On Red, it would have been enough, but for Stretch, his only response was a faint blush of orange that, Edge was pleased to discover, spread down to his sternum. He planned to get far more orange out of him soon enough.

He started out easily, gentle strokes up his legs, lighter touches across his pelvis. There would be plenty of time for him to speed up, to make Stretch scream with pleasure. He had never heard that measured voice get higher than a drawl, but if anyone could make it happen, it would be him. He sighed, head falling back as Edge explored the planes of his intimate areas, keeping his touch light.

His first orgasm came before his magic had fully gathered. Using a somewhat firmer touch, Edge had dipped his fingers into the swirling orange mist, and that had managed to push him over the brink.

He even orgasmed quietly, head pressing back into the pillow, a faint rattle and moan. Was he holding back? Would a few more unlock his voice? Edge sat back, giving him time to recover and fully construct his vulva. They had all night, after all.

When he had regained his faculties, he sat up, holding his folds open with one hand. “What do you think, babe? Pretty enough for you?” He wiggled his hips, but the question wasn’t as humorous as he probably intended.

The relationship between them was still relatively new. Although he and Red had been intimate for nearly a year, it had only been a few months since Stretch had suggested making the V of their relationship into a triangle. Did Stretch feel inadequate, consigned to second place? It must have been intimidating to be the newcomer, as Red and Edge had loved each other for years. Maybe that was why he suggested such an extreme sex act. Maybe he wanted to catch up with them.

One partner with low self-esteem was worrisome enough, but two? Edge reached forward, hooking a hand around the back of Stretch’s neck to give him a demanding kiss. No biting—he was holding back on roughness for this encounter—but he made sure to plunge into his mouth, to taste him thoroughly. When he pulled back, both of them were panting, Stretch’s blush getting deeper. “Absolutely beautiful.”

Their initial dates had been confrontational, to say the least, something of a romantic rivalry, but there was no room for that in an act like this. Stretch deserved whatever affection and care Edge could manage, without any barbs. Perhaps some light teasing but nothing harsher than that. Edge wasn’t going to betray the vulnerability he was freely offering.

He moved back down the bed, hands on Stretch’s hips as he examined his genitalia from multiple angles, even as he started to squirm in anticipation. Finally, sensing the moment that Stretch was about to start goading him into action (not begging, he unfortunately wasn’t undone enough for begging), Edge leaned down, exhaling against his vulva and delighting in his shudder.

He wasn’t too wet, another difference from Sans and his persistent gushing. Edge had planned for that, of course, but for now... Dipping his head further, he parted his jaw, licking a stripe up from his entrance to his clit. It wouldn’t be possible for him to make Stretch nearly lubricated enough with just the use of his tongue, but he would give his best effort anyway.

In his research of the particular sex act they would soon be trying, he learned that it would be beneficial for the recipient to orgasm at least once to make them more receptive, if not multiple times. Stretch’s low stamina was a concern, but Red had engaged in enough intimacy with Stretch to be able to report back on his limits. It also helped that he had eaten and napped ahead of time, to give himself as much energy as he could. Still, it was hard to gauge how much that was before they had begun.

Edge hoped he wouldn’t collapse from pleasure before they could reach the main event. As ego-pleasing as that would be, neither of them was comfortable with performing sex acts while the other was asleep. (Edge had done that with Red in the past, but he needed to keep their boundaries and interests firmly delineated in his mind. It was possible Stretch would be open to it someday, with his considerable laziness, but that wasn’t something to rush into.)

Stretch was clearly more riled up than he gave away, because after only a few minutes of very enthusiastic oral, he came again, his femurs tightening against the sides of Edge’s skull. Still very low volume, and definite room for improvement. While he recovered, Edge got his supplies in order. He had prepared thoroughly for this!

He was going to start out simple. Reaching for the bottle of lubricant, he applied a small amount to his gloved pointer and middle fingers. Soon he would need far more, to the point of it being a mess (necessitating the towels below them), but for now this was about as much as he needed. Carefully positioning the bottle, he also squeezed a few drops directly onto the exterior of Stretch’s magic and started to spread it, making sure no inch of his golden magic went neglected.

“Wait a second.”

It wasn’t so serious as the use of their safe word ( _melon_ ), but Edge stopped anyway, his index finger barely a breath away from dipping inside him. Was he losing his cool, or did he just need more oral?

“What is it? Is there something wrong?” If his hand had not been slick with lube, he might have put it on his femur to steady them both. But the pause was not as dire as he expected.

“I thought you were using _those_ gloves?” If he had eyebrows, they would have been raised, as he stared at the hand that would soon be his undoing.

How unobservant of him! What sort of sentry was he, to have gotten this far into their tryst without noticing? Rather than wearing his signature gloves, with their sharpened fingers and the studs lining the sides, he had chosen a different, plainer pair. A pair less likely to harm his counterpart’s intimate areas. They hadn’t agreed to any painful acts so far, and genital harm seemed far too much for the growing, still fragile trust between them. “I’m not going to sully my good work gloves with your emissions! Surely these will do?”

Stretch stared at his hands, swallowing heavily. They were still leather, elbow-length, and the same shade of crimson. When they had negotiated this act, Stretch had brought that up explicitly. Wearing gloves filled out Edge’s hands so they were more substantial, and apparently Stretch found the leather to be a turn-on. Luckily for him and his choice of a new partner!

“Do you have any complaints?” He trailed one leather-bound finger along the edge of his labia, pleased at how his legs shivered. “I could take these off—”

“No! No, they’re fine, don’t bother!” It was surprisingly precious how he was trying to be secretive about his interest in leather. Maybe he hadn’t told Red, and it was mere shyness over a kink? Not that it was fooling Red at all; he was smirking down at his phone as he listened in.

“How are you feeling?” Edge asked, finally slipping a finger inside of him. That was no problem, but of course they had a long way to go. There was a chance he would change his mind, wanting to be fingered and nothing more.

“It’s a bit cold,” Stretch said, grimacing slightly. “Uh, the ambience is kinda boring. You didn’t even put down any rose petals or anything. Not sure how romanced I’m feeling right now.”

“Oh, hush. I meant how _this_ is feeling.” To punctuate his point, in went a second finger, with his thumb against his clit. Stretch made a soft, appreciative sound, and, almost imperceptibly, he seemed to relax a little more.

“’S good so far. Trust me, if things go south, you’ll know.” He wasn’t so sure, with his counterpart’s tendency to downplay discomforts and upsets, but he could only hope. He spread his fingers carefully, keeping an eye on his face as he started to stretch him out. He would need to be a lot looser than this if they were going to go the whole way.

“S-stop,” Stretch panted out, mere seconds after Edge had started rubbing his clit again. “That’s too much, just... just keep going inside, okay?”

“Of course, but—are you alright? Is it painful?”

“Nah, but if you keep it up it might be. It’s kind of overstimulating. Don’t wanna go off immediately, you know? Lot’s gonna be going on in my bits, you don’t have to add more.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have another orgasm first like this? I can definitely accommodate that desire...”

“Nah, you’re basically halfway there, start going the whole mile. I’m ready for it.” He had propped himself up as much as he could, staring down at himself and Edge’s hand. “Now’s not the time to start teasing me. Swear on the Angel, Edge, you can’t leave me hanging now.” The impatience was almost adorable, no bored, affected detachment left. No amount of pleading was going to make him rush, but it was still nice to hear.

He added another generous pour of lube to the rest of his fingers, grimacing at the mess. ‘Use more than you’d ever think you’ll need,’ every source had told him, and he needed to do so, even if an ocean of lube was unpleasant to actually behold. Things were certainly slippery, he had to concede that. Stretch was glaring down at him, reminding him that he wanted more _now_ , but he gave a generous pause after the third and fourth finger, making sure it was still okay.

His thumb was a different story. He tried shifting it around to different positions, gently pressing forward but not gaining any ground. Maybe Stretch was a four-finger fuck at most? Maybe he needed to come again? But then something shifted imperceptibly, and in it went. The whole of Edge’s fist inside of him.

“Holy shit, it actually worked. You’re actually doing it.” Stretch tried to scoot up a little higher to see himself and only shifted Edge’s hand inside of him, startling out a moan.

In all of his research, he hadn’t expected it to go so far either. Not all people could accommodate someone else’s hand, let alone further on to a person’s wrist. He would have been happy achieving just that— he wouldn’t degrade Stretch if it was too much for his body to take. (Personally, he wasn’t sure he could manage to do the same. It was a considerable sexual feat in his mind.)

But it kept going. Stretch’s body was eager to take him in, more and more, though Edge would have expected him to have reached his limit minutes ago. With each movement, far too gentle to consider a thrust, more of his gloved forearm disappeared inside of his passage, almost halfway up his radius and ulna. Maybe it was a quality of having magical genitalia, rather than a physical set? Maybe it was because Edge didn’t have the padding of flesh, even with his gloves? Surely this couldn’t be possible...

Although almost all of his focus was on Stretch, in case any flicker of pain crossed his face, he could feel Red watching them unabashedly, having given up the pretense of acting bored and disinterested. Were those tiny sounds of fabric moving Red touching himself? How much could he see with Edge kneeling over Stretch? It must have been a good show; he’d feel a little insulted if it _didn’t_ drive Red to masturbation.

Soon, he didn’t have to wonder. Red got up, crossing the room to sit on the side of the bed, his eyelights flickering as he took both of them in. “Holy shit,” he breathed, hand faltering above Stretch’s knee, as if that might be the touch that finally overwhelmed him. “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” When Edge glanced over at him, he had both a hard-on and a shiny wet patch on his shorts to suggest he had already jerked off once already.

“I’m so full,” Stretch whispered back, turning flickering eyelights on him. It was like he was a completely different person, everything but lust stripped away. “But...please keep going, Edge, fuck... I can take a little more, I swear...”

“Well, you heard the guy. You’d better get going, Boss.” Red grinned, leaning in briefly to rub his heavy erection against Edge’s bared iliac crest before retreating to let them continue. (From the sounds Edge faintly heard a minute later, he had retrieved his phone so he could take photos of their coupling. Hopefully the lighting was good.)

Under Red’s excited gaze, Edge pushed forward in tiny increments, watching his arm further disappear inside of their partner. It was strangely alluring to see the faint red through the translucent orange of his magic. With how slow his movements were, it seemed to take hours, gently rocking in and out. There wasn’t any need to rush, and with how tightly Stretch’s insides were gripping him, it might not have been possible to go any faster.

Those slow movements seemed to be more than enough. His insides clamped down on him, too tight to move, as Stretch came for a final time with a wail, barely muffled against a pillow.

Edge wanted to retreat before the ecstasy faded and his hand became an unwelcome guest, but removing it was almost more arduous than the insertion. Stretch’s orgasm seemed to extend far longer than the previous ones with little aftershocks, his passage fluttering and tightening unexpectedly whenever Edge attempted to withdraw. Each inch removed made Stretch whine, the glove so slick that the red of the leather looked dark orange. He didn’t seem to be in pain, which was fortunate, but pulling out too quickly could make that change in an instant.

After what felt like minutes, the room silent except for squelching and their panted breaths, he finally extracted himself completely. Now that he was free, his hand was starting to ache. Had Stretch really squeezed it that tightly?

Stretch was asleep almost immediately. Usually Edge would be annoyed at his insistence on passing out without a moment’s notice, but he had been through a lot. He would have preferred for him to be awake for the start of some sort of aftercare, but perhaps letting him rest counted.

With his clean hand, Edge tugged at his glove, trying not to jar his aching fingers. For someone so flimsy, Stretch’s pussy had been surprisingly strong, perhaps enough that the bones of his fingers felt out of place, possibly dislocated. As he tried to unglove himself, he stood on wobbling legs, as if he had been the one to be thoroughly plundered. There was nowhere to set it down that wouldn’t leave a mess of lubricant and Stretch’s fluids behind. Better to head to the bathroom.

Red followed him in, hesitantly touching his arm. “You doing okay, bro? Great job, by the way.” His second role was coming into play, ready to look after the both of them. Usually Edge would have felt indebted to do it, but in the aftermath of that game, he felt detached, almost floaty. He could barely walk in a straight line or answer his brother. Definitely not in the best mindset to make decisions for someone else.

He let Red draw him over to the sink. Red caught on after the first few winces and proceeded more carefully, helping him ease the soiled glove off. Indeed, his middle and pointer fingers were out of place, inflamed and throbbing. Green magic and post-coital haze (possibly unexpected subspace?) dulled the pain enough that Red could nudge his fingers back into their correct positions, rubbing a thumb along his wrist as he held it in place.

“C’mon, speak up bro, your fingers are too fucked up to speak in hands right now. Did you enjoy yourself? Feeling okay? Fingers not hurting so much?” It was hard to gather the proper words for what just happened, so he merely nodded. Red turned on the sink, pouring soap out onto his hands and helping him through the motions until he was focused enough to clean himself. Technically only his gloves were dirty, but washing his hands was a necessary post-sex step. Soon he was feeling clear-headed and could start rinsing off his gloves. Red stood there, petting his spine and getting ever lower with each stroke.

“You want help getting off? Lemme just—nope, seems like you’ve already got that covered.” Red’s hand had slipped to the front of his pants, cupping his still-summoned cock only to find his whole crotch faintly wet. He had been so focused on Stretch that he hadn’t noticed himself coming without ever touching himself. Apparently the sight had been just that attractive?

Even in his pleasant haze, he didn’t want to be sitting in his own emissions for very long. He didn’t have time for a full clean-up, but Red helped him peel off his come-sticky pants and knelt on the bathroom floor to clean his femurs and pelvis, while he tried to hold himself up on the bathroom counter. His legs trembled, but luckily Red was being practical instead of teasing. Soon he was clean and in new pants without orgasming again in the process. Edge was still half-hard by the time it was done, but Red tended to do that to him with the most innocuous actions.

Soon, he was led back into the bedroom. It was not appropriate for Red to leave either of them alone for very long, as their apparent dom for the night, and Stretch needed watching over more than Edge did. That was why this wouldn’t be just a brief fuck—Stretch was definitely going to stay the night in their shared bed, and well into the morning, if Edge had anything to say about it.

Luckily Red had prepared for this, as promised. There would be time to wash them later, but for now he eased out the damp towels from under Stretch (without waking him, impressively) and bundled them off in the corner. He spilled out his inventory onto the bedspread: water, snacks, wipes to clean up with. Edge’s stuffed rabbit, which Red brandished at him with a shit-eating grin.

With a growl, he snatched it, giving himself a moment to stroke its soft, worn ears before it disappeared into his own inventory. Just having it there was enough; Stretch might still be unconscious, but it was too intimate to share with him yet. Perhaps someday.

It took a few minutes for him to stir, while Red was convincing Edge to finish a sandwich and rubbing at his back. Stretch tried to sit up, wincing halfway through the motion. No wonder, when his parts were still summoned. Was he still aroused? Edge would have expected it to vanish during his brief sleep. His entrance was gaping a bit, and Edge looked away, hoping he wasn’t as flushed as he felt.

Like with Edge, Red helped him wipe away the mess of fluids and lube and redressed him in a soft pair of sweatpants. The whole time, he kept up an array of gentle touches and questions in a low voice: mostly asking if it had been painful, and if he had enjoyed himself. Once he was decent again, Red wrapped a quilt around him and shoved a snack cake in his hand. Just a few months ago, he might have felt jealous that his counterpart was getting Red’s attention when he was not, but it didn’t grate on him much now; he would have another turn soon.

“Now, what else do you two want me to get? Heating pad? More food? We could have an early dinner, think you guys earned it. You especially, Boss; you need the healing.”

“Almost sounds like you’re about to make an effort,” Edge said dryly. “Was our performance so alluring that we broke you?” Stretch gave a scratchy laugh.

“Eh, you two are cute enough that I can try for once. What’ll it be, gorgeous?”

“A hug,” Stretch rasped out, flailing his hoodie sleeves at Red. “Bring it in, buddy. Just be gentle, kay? Been through a lot here.”

“Well, if you insist. I was gonna do something fancy, really give it my all, but if that’s the only thing you want...” He crawled across the bed but paused, probably to assess the situation. Hugging Stretch from the front could potentially put too much pressure on his pelvis, undoubtedly tender. After his deliberation, he wedged in between them, an arm around Stretch’s back as he petted and stroked at whatever bones were in reach. To comfort and ground him, not to arouse. Sometimes Edge became disconnected from his body after intense sex, so maybe Stretch went through the same thing?

Red was doing an admirable job of making sure neither was being neglected. They were sitting close enough that Red could reach both of them, and soon one hand was resting on Edge’s knee, rubbing in circles.

“Seriously, though. We can have dinner soon, anything you two want. Well, if it’s something I’d have to cook, might need to be simple, but if it’s takeout, anything you want.”

“Are you actually trying to seduce us with grease?” Stretch mumbled into Red’s shoulder. “Out of everything you could have offered.” One of the most admirable traits that they shared (of which there were few): Stretch didn’t like greasy fast food any more than Edge did. He tolerated it more easily, but it was just his way not to make any waves, while Edge complained more fiercely. His diet was hardly immaculate, but at least it was a different kind of unhealthy than Red’s.

“Yeah, but I don’t think this guy would approve if I only brought you donuts, sweetheart.” He tapped Edge on the leg, and he huffed.

“Perhaps a small dessert is in order, with whatever actual meal you manage to procure for us. Whatever it is, I hope it arrives post-haste. We’ve exhausted ourselves, after all.”

“You sure you guys are gonna be okay? I’ll get it as fast as I can, but... Can you manage a few minutes without looking at this handsome face?” For all of that bluster, he was still worried about them. In the past, when Edge and Red had done scenes together, they were loathe to separate until they had returned to their normal mindsets. Whoever acted as the sub didn’t do well when left alone without the dom.

“Just make it quick, alright? Who knows what sort of shenanigans we might get up to when you’re not around.” Red snorted at Stretch’s words, leaning over to kiss them both before he teleported away.

But now, he and Stretch had each other to watch over. Things would be preferable with Red there, but they weren’t alone. They could hold each other up, waiting for Red to come back. Stretch shifted over, leaning against Edge’s side, and he carefully put an arm around him. Were they closer now? Had this signaled a new level in their relationship? This had been a date of sorts, one that had tested both of their limits deeply.

“So, uh. What’d he mean by healing? You okay?”

“Red fixed my hand for me, if you’re wondering.” Stretch grabbed at his hand, raised it up to socket level to examine it.“I’ll have you know your absurd pussy dislocated my fingers. I hope you’re proud of yourself and your vaginal prowess.”

“Holy shit.” He gave an appreciative look down at his crotch. “That sure is a skill I didn’t know I had. Gonna put that on my resumé.”

“Stars above, why are you like this??” Stretch laughed in response, cuddling up against him.

It didn’t take long, fast enough that Edge hoped he had paid for everything instead of stuffing it into his ribcage and teleporting away. Red upturned a few plastic bags of food onto the bed, probably more than they needed: pasta, pastries, drinks. Of course it wasn’t a home-cooked meal, obviously bought from the deli counter and the bakery of the grocery store down the street, but it tasted delicious somehow.

While Red was clearing away the trash of their meal, Edge turned to Stretch. “Are you alright to walk?”

“I’m not an invalid, you know.” His tone was still playful, so he hadn’t taken it as an insult. Edge had the feeling he had been on the cusp of teleporting before he had spoken up. Apparently to prove that he could move on his own, he gingerly inched towards the side of the bed, but he didn’t seem the most stable.

“I’m perfectly capable of carrying you, I’ll have you know! I am an excellent and considerate form of transportation.”

A few months ago, Stretch would have snarked at him about it. A few months ago, Edge probably wouldn’t have offered. But now he just shrugged and held out his arms. “If you insist, feel free to carry all you like tonight. Just no dropping, I’m a fragile item.” With Red smirking at them both, he swept Stretch into his grasp, making sure not to put any pressure close to his pelvis.

Despite being a skeleton, Stretch had always seemed like a warm, soft presence, and actually holding him proved it. It was a different experience than carrying Red, and he had to be careful not to knock Stretch’s legs against the banister as he headed downstairs. For a moment, he mourned the loss of the moment once he reached the sofa and had to set Stretch down, but then he realized he could just sit down and set him on his waiting lap.

There was a moment where he had to wonder if that was going too far. Yes, he had just fisted Stretch, but maybe lap sitting wasn’t appropriate yet? But then Stretch wiggled into a more comfortable position, Red flopped down beside them, and they were free to argue over a choice of a show to watch and whether Red, as the dom, was required to make popcorn for them. They were both so _exhausted_ that it would be wrong—no, criminal—to make either of them get up, they insisted to a snickering Red.

It was more of a trial to talk him into butter-free popcorn.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know that much about leather or fabrics in general, but isn’t it really porous? So actually doing that might have ruined Edge’s gloves, I’m not sure. And it’s probably not the cleanest way to go about things, no matter how much he washed those gloves beforehand. Also this is not a super accurate representation of fisting, but I’m just trying my best here. 
> 
> ...How many fisting fics can someone write before it becomes weird? This makes two and a half so far.


End file.
